Tear Me Down
by ArmagonAuthor
Summary: Don't tear me down, for all I need. Make my heart a better place, give me something I can believe. Don't tear it down, what's left of me. Make my heart a better place." - Tag to The Rapture - Both Brother's POV's after Sam gets locked in the room.


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_I'm dying to catch my breath__  
__Oh why don't I ever learn?__  
__I've lost all my trust though I've surely tried to__  
__Turn it around_

_- All I Need, Within Temptation_  
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As Sam marched down the stairwell behind Bobby, the sound of his footfalls echoed loudly in his ears. He was painfully aware that behind him, Dean seemed to be walking just far enough behind Sam so that he didn't touch him. It felt like there was a big spotlight overtop of Sam, hovering just over a sign that read, "freak here." Sam knew Dean well enough to be able to read his body language, and right now Dean was walking as if he was afraid that accidentally brushing Sam's clothes or bumping him in the corridor might give him rabies or something. And that kind of scrutiny wasn't a good feeling.

They marched the last few steps through the hallway, which felt cramped because Sam had to shorten his steps to meet the older man's pace, but yet he still felt like he was being ushered at the same time. When Bobby turned to Sam, he forced a friendly grin on his face. Bobby didn't know anything, so there was no reason to worry the man any more than they had already. Besides, there was nothing to worry about anyways. Dean had reacted to the… situation a lot different than Sam had expected. He hadn't even thrown a punch! But still… Sam wished that Dean would just yell and scream and get it over with. But now wasn't the time to think about this… He had to help Bobby.

"Now go on inside. I want to show you somethin'."

"Alright…"Sam brought himself back to the present situation, sidestepping the man so that he could make his way into the room. He stopped after he had been a few steps in the doorway, waiting for Dean to join him. God… he hated this room _so_ much. It was so small and dark… and locked in. Hopefully they could help Bobby and get out of there ASAP. "So uh, what's the big demon problem?" Sam turned around, and was confused to see that Bobby and Dean hadn't joined him in the room.

Bobby had one hand on the door anxiously. His face was well controlled and somber as he looked up to Sam. "You are."

_I… What?_

"This is for your own good," Bobby didn't' hesitate to pull the door shut, and Dean even helped. Sam heard the clicking of a few large bolts, and his mind reeled. His mouth hung slightly agar in shock, and he took a few steps towards the huge metal door. _ Oh nonononononono…._ "G-Guys?" A red light fell on Sam's face as he peered in through the little window with bars in it. _Oh god no…_ Bobby and Dean's faces were cold as the metal cover was slid across the opening. "Hey! Hey guys" –

There was the sound of another bolt being slid, and the area in front of Sam's face went black. "This isn't funny! Guys!" He hit the door with his fist, ignoring the pain in his arm from the altercation with the ghouls a few weeks ago. "Hey! _Guys_!"

No answer greeted him from the other side of the door, nor were there any reason to think that Dean and Bobby were even listening. They couldn't just leave him here in this room, with the cold metal walls and the suffocating darkness and the red lights and the claustrophobia. They couldn't just _leave_ him here!

"Open the door!" Again his fist came in contact with the door, and he hit it a few more times in unison. "Guys! Open the damn door! Dean!"

No one replied. Dean never came to his brother's rescue, and Bobby never spoke against it. He could hear the sound of footsteps moving away from him, and then there was nothing but the sound of Sam's yelling to keep him company. It would be that way for a long time.

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_I'm here on the edge again__  
__I wish I could let it go__  
__I know that I'm only one step away__  
__From turning around_

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Dean clenched his jaw tightly, turning the volume up on the TV until it was as loud as it would go. As it was, the noise was barely loud enough to drown out the sound of his brother shouting for help downstairs. He leaned back on the couch, knowing that there wasn't a thing he could do but uncomfortable all the same. No… uncomfortable wasn't the right word. He was in pain. Physical, emotional and god damn mental pain over this. It should be easy, Dean told himself, to sit back and do the right thing. Sam had been lying to him about everything. He had let a demon manipulate him into drinking her blood, and used that power to do things that he wasn't supposed to be able to do. Sam needed to be in that room, needed to stay put so he could detox and just _rest_ until that crap was out of his system. Dean knew he was doing the right thing.

But the thing was… Sam _wasn't_ resting. Sam was locked in a crappy and dark little room by himself without food or water or company, and he had been screaming his head off for almost an hour and a half now. At first Dean's resolve had been strong, and his will had overpowered his senses. Dean knew what he had had to do, so he just did it. He had shut that door behind Sam without hesitation, had marched up those steps and past Bobby without a backwards glance. He had ignored his little brother for the first hour, but now…

But now it was too much. Now Dean couldn't help glancing back at the basement door every couple seconds and fidgeting with the beer bottle in his hands. At first Sam had sounded so angry, so pissed off at being locked down there, and it had been easy to lock him out. Dean was pissed too, so they were even in his eyes. Let Sam get a taste of his own medicine, huh?

But then pissed had slowly changed into scared. Sam had stopped calling for Bobby at all, and now he was only calling Dean for help. For _help_! It didn't seem to matter that Dean had helped lock Sam in there, because Sam was calling for Dean and Dean alone.

Dean remembered years ago, when a seven-year-old Sam had followed Dean and John to a hunt without them knowing, and had fallen down into a grave by himself and couldn't climb back out. When they got back to the hotel and realized that he was missing, they had driven around town for five hours looking for him. When they did find him, covered in mud and half-hypothermic, he was still shouting Dean's name. Sam had believed with his whole heart that his big brother was going to rescue him. He had _trusted_ that Dean was going to pull through. And he still trusted Dean this time.

It was heartbreaking really. Sam really thought that Dean was going to get him out of there. This would be so much easier if Sam could just be as angry at Dean as Dean was at Sam, if Sam could just realize that Dean couldn't help him this time. There was no lying that Dean's faith and trust in Sam had been shattered lately, and he didn't know what to think about his brother anymore. On the other hand though, were Sam's views of Dean. Sam was a liar and a cheat and an addict and a bit psychotic… but he still trusted Dean. No matter how many times he got punched or sworn at or glared at or talked about, he still trusted Dean even when he didn't seem to love him. Dean had seen it when they had locked him in there, seen how easily Sam had marched into that room, seen how shocked he looked when the door got shut in his face. Sam had trusted that Dean would follow, trusted that he wasn't being let into a trap. But he had been wrong.

Because Sam hadn't had trust in Dean. Oh no, he had had trust in Dean's trust. He had taken for granted the fact that Dean would do anything for him. But he had expected too much, because looking the other way was not something Dean could do.

So here Sam was, still shouting for Dean's help. Shouting for help like that scared and frozen little child that he had been almost twenty years ago. But this time… as horrible as it sounded, Dean just wanted to make Sam shut up. Because this time, Dean knew the truth. Yeah, Sam had gotten himself into the graveyard incident. And Sam had sure as hell gotten himself into this too. There was no doubt about that. But last time he had been a child. He hadn't known any better, and was just trying to help his family. There were good intentions behind that mistake. But this time Sam _knew_ that what he was doing was wrong, and he just went and did it anyways without caring how much it was hurting Dean or anyone else. That did not seem like good intentions in Dean's books.

At first, when Dean's temper had been spiking, he just wanted to run in there and start throwing punches. How could Sam do this? Dean didn't need this right now. He was still half-broken from his time in hell, trying to find out how he was supposed to stop the apocalypse that _he_ started, caught in the middle of a battle between angels who wanted him to become Mr. Preacher and demons who wanted him to become Mr. Interrogator, and he had lost his grove in the hunt. This was the worst year of his life on earth, and he didn't need Sam to mess it up even more than he had already. Sam had just gone and made everything so much worse! Sam had been his lifeline, and had instead thrown that back in Dean's face with a smile. Sam had gone and done everything that he had said he would never do, become everything that he said he would never become. And Dean was _still_ here! He was _still_ doing the right thing! Dean hadn't left Sam after all he had done, so doing the right thing was the only thing he had _left _to do.

Back when they were kids, Dean would have done anything to make his brother feel better, to give him a warm blanket and a hug and make the monsters in his imagination go away. When Sam was young, Dean had known the ways to help him. Pick him up and dust him off, give him a blanket and a warm hug, and tell him that everything was going to be okay. He even lied to him if he had to. Anything to make Sam happy was acceptable in Dean's eyes.

"_Yes Sam, I you can wake me up at 3 AM because you can't sleep. I'm fine with that… No Sam, I don't mind you borrowing my new jeans even though they are way too short on you... Yes Sam, I'll tell dad that it was me who dropped and broke that gun that he spent $400 on even though he will kill me… Yes Sam, I really _do_ care which country was the richest in 1768 even though your English teacher said otherwise… No Sam, I don't mind giving you my cheerios because you want the blue bowl instead of the red one. Yes Sam, I can make the monsters go away. Yes Sam, I can do anything and everything for you because that's my freaking job! Right?"_

Back then… Dean hadn't minded. That was his life. _Sam_ was his life. But back then; Dean had been Sam's life too. Sam had actually appreciated when Dean took care of him, even if he didn't understand or know about it half the time. Sam had idolized Dean, had treated him like a hero just because of little things like sharing clothes or standing up for Sam in a fight. So because of this idolization, because of this mutual love, Dean had gone on with it. Dean took care of Sam because he knew Sam wanted to be taken car off. But this time, Sam didn't care anymore. Sam didn't let Dean help him with anything or let him in on any of his secrets. And he didn't appreciate anything Dean was doing anymore.

Maybe that was because Dean _couldn't_ do anything anymore…. Or it was _why_ Dean couldn't do anything anymore. Either or.

But the point was that there was a wall between them, a wall that Sam himself had built with his own lies and secrets and acts. Because of this wall, Dean couldn't help his brother anymore. Dean couldn't make the monsters go away this time, because the monsters were everywhere. The monsters were in the regrets of things that they had both done that would never leave them. The monsters were in the lurking shadows of destinies and a hopeless future that lay barren ahead of them. The monsters were in demons like Ruby who had manipulated Sam into doing things that he had once deemed wrong. The monsters were in Sam's own blood. All these monsters were very real, and Dean couldn't wish them away with a lie. Dean couldn't remove them words. And the truth was he was just too tired for anything more. He was just… tired of jumping in front of every missile that was aimed at his brother and that Dean aimed his way. He couldn't keep taking the fall for Sam. But yet Sam was still calling away for Dean to help him.

Sam wanted Dean's help? He wanted Dean to make the monsters go away? Well that's what he was doing. It wasn't Sam's fault that the process wasn't very pleasant. Because this time, the monster was inside Sam. And Dean was just trying to make it go away before the lines blurred and the monster became Sam himself. It was a horrible, discussing thought, but right now things were starting to look that way.

Dean wasn't doing anything wrong. He was still being the big brother he always had been, but now he was also being a hunter. And the hunter in him said that letting Sam continue down this road would end badly. Dean _was_ doing the right thing, after all. So in doing the right thing, it shouldn't hurt this bad to hear Sam screaming right now.

But it did anyways.

_Fine…_ Dean took another swig of his beer, moving closer to the TV so it would seem louder and Sam's pleads for help quieter. _You wont let me in Sammy boy, then I'm not going to let you _out. _Now we're even. Equal. Just like brother's should be. _

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_I've tried many times but nothing was real__  
__Make it fade away__  
__Don't break me down__  
__I want to believe that this is for real__  
__Save me from my fear__  
__Don't tear me down_

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_  
__Don't tear me down__  
__For all I need__  
__Make my heart a better place__  
__Give me something i can believe__  
__Don't tear it down__  
__What's left of me__  
__Make my heart a better place_

_Make my heart a better place_


End file.
